Touch Me Any Way But Lightly
by badacts
Summary: It stands to reason that the next thing to go after professionalism is personal space.


**Yeah, now I'm just doing it for kicks.**

**Still don't own it.**

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><p><strong>TOUCH ME (ANY WAY BUT LIGHTLY)<strong>

**BadActs**

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><p>It stands to reason that the next thing to go after professionalism is personal space.<p>

And yeah, Danny can kind of understand Kono touching everyone – she's a beautiful woman, probably used to having men slavering after her at every turn, so it's almost certainly second nature for her to slap him on the ass as he walks past her. He supposes he gets Chin's stoic-and-manly-back-pats as well. Chin's got that always-relaxed surfer dude thing going on, so that's alright.

But _McGarrett_ – Danny would have thought that they'd beaten the touchy-feely side out of him in SEAL school. Apparently not: Steve's always draped over him nowadays, the prickly exterior he'd had when Danny had met him softened into something else completely. Well, for the most part. It's not like Steve's going to stop being emotionally retarded just because he's got a few friends on the island now.

It's not – okay, it's not a _problem_, except that Danny can't stop _thinking _about it. So what if _he_ touches people, he's a Catholic-raised cop from New Jersey with a loud mouth and too many siblings, it's more natural for him than it is for Steve 'Don't Startle Me If You Value Your Life and Sanity' McGarrett.

Danny might have a few issues. He hopes that acknowledging them now will start him on the road to sorting his shit out.

Take right now, for example: two beers have made Steve loose, for all his eyes are still and steady, and his right arm is slung over the back of Danny's chair. Danny knows the move, he used it on Rachael, it means _you're mine and I want everyone to know it_, so he just has to hope that it has a different translation in McGarrett-ese. By the looks that Kono is shooting him, and Chin to a lesser extent, _they_ certainly don't seem to think so.

Danny knows what it's like to hold the people around you closer in the wake of loss. He always thought that Steve was the type to push them away instead of pulling them in, but apparently he's not right. It would all become much clearer, though, if the SEAL could express the emotions needed to determine how he actually _feels_ about all of them besides, you know, _possessive._

As for how Danny feels about Steve, well. It's hard, wanting someone as much as they drive you wild. He'd thought that no one could raise his blood pressure as fast as Rachel did – does – but Steve is so much worse than Rachel. It's one thing to be in love with an upper-class Brit who turns into a raving bitch when angered. It's another entirely to be in love with Steve, who is too bright, too brave and all too willing to lay down his life for just about anybody.

Danny risks everything in love. It's all in, all over for him, always has been, and it hasn't turned out so well for him so far. It would be hard for him to fall again when Steve could literally go down in flames at any moment. Hard, and inevitable, with Danny's luck the way it is.

Steve pays their bill for the night, looks at Danny when he stands in the beckoning way that long-term couples have. Danny would complain about that except for the part where he's already on his feet and following the taller man before he can put the words together. He's feeling mellow, not particularly tipsy at all, and Steve looks as sharp as ever as he unlocks the car and walks to the driver's side.

He's got his door open when Danny looks across the roof of the car and says, "You're very tactile for a military-trained killing machine."

"I'm not a killing machine," Steve says, obviously automatically, before he takes in the rest of the sentence. He pauses, and the leans his forearms on the roof – it feels like they've both stalled, time slowing as Steve gets what Danny is really saying just like he always does.

Steve says, "you think too much." And it's true, Danny thinks like he talks, like he acts, fire and speed for all that he calls Steve the reckless one of them.

That's probably why he ducks inside the car and waits – Steve climbs in slower, putting the key in the ignition before he turns to look Danny in the eye.

And Danny's right there, hands on Steve's face like he has been tacitly given permission for this. He has been, actually, because Steve has been telling him that this is okay in his own way for a while now. Danny could kick himself for not realising that until now.

Steve's eyes are very dark without the bright Hawaiian sunlight, lids half lowered and sleepy-looking. There's something of a smirk in the shape of his mouth, like he's holding it in just in case Danny takes offence. Danny hates it when Steve gets stuff before him, always has. Now he's probably going to hold this over Danny's head _forever_.

"You're a smartass," Danny informs him, watching in fascination when Steve shivers at the feeling of Danny's breath on his throat, his jaw.

"What're you going to do about it?" he drawls back, the same give and take as always. If that's a comfort, Danny can't quite process it right now – he's too busy learning the taste of Steve's jaw, his lips, the familiar touch of his hands on Danny's body while Danny returns the favour.

Because _this_ is what he's going to do about it. Fuck his fragile heart and everything he's afraid of - if the fall's going to hurt, he may as well as least make it worth his while.

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><p><strong>-BadActs<strong>


End file.
